By Jacque Visagie · Personal Leadership & High Performance
On better side of 40, I'm more excited about my future than I was at 21.
Which is quite something, considering that at 21 I thought I knew just about EVERYTHING there was to know. π€£
Back then, I had big dreams. I wanted to build a successful life. Work hard. Be someone people could depend on. Make something of myself.
Twenty years later, I've built a business, spent more than 16 years helping people transform their bodies and lives, become a father, made some wonderful decisions and some spectacularly questionable ones.
I've known achievement. I've known true love. I've known what it feels like to watch parts of a life you care deeply about change in ways you never imagined.
And today? Man, I've still got SO MUCH I want to do.
I'd love to see what I can build over the next ten years. The work I can create. The people I can serve. The places I can go. The memories I can make with Luke. The life I can experience with the people I love.
But something fundamental has changed in the way I think about all of that.
My dreams are no longer shaped so much by who I thought I was supposed to be, but by a much deeper understanding of who I actually am.
And there's something incredibly exciting about that.
When I envision my future, I can clearly see not only the life I want to build, but also the man I want to become while living it.
Will I trust him? Will the people he loves be able to trust him? Will he be courageous when it matters? Kind when it's difficult? Strong enough to do the work and wise enough to know when to stop? Will he enjoy what he's worked so hard to build?
Because what would be the point of building an extraordinary life if I didn't also love and respect the man living it?
I want to start here, because we don't say this to men nearly enough.
Look at what you've already done my dude! Just WOW!
Maybe you've raised children. Built a business that serves people and creates a life for those you love. Worked for the same company for twenty years and become the man everybody calls when something goes wrong. Kept a family afloat through some very difficult seasons. Started over. Studied at night. Paid the bills when you were worried about how you'd make it to month-end.
Maybe your particular life looks completely different. But I bet there are things you've accomplished that the younger version of you would be bloody proud of.
Give yourself credit, my dude.
Being responsible, dependable and ambitious is something worth celebrating. I've got no interest in telling men that wanting success, financial security, a strong body or professional recognition is somehow shallow.
HELL NO. I love ambition.
I love seeing what disciplined, capable human beings can create when they give something their best. I see it every day in the work I do.
Are we giving the same attention to the men we're becoming as we give to the lives we're building? That for me is the key to fulfilment. To also build the man.
Because we can become incredibly skilled at producing results while overlooking the character, relationships and personal capacity that make those results worthwhile.
Results are good? I'M THE MAN! πͺ
Results aren't so good? Maybe I should consider a career as a janitor. π€£
I've written about this in A Beautiful Midlife Crisis — I Highly Recommend One.
When business was going brilliantly, I could feel pretty damn brilliant myself. When things became difficult, I could take it as evidence that I wasn't doing enough. That somehow I wasn't enough.
I had allowed outcomes to answer questions about my worth as an incredible man created in God's image those outcomes had no business answering.
And I think a lot of men will relate.
You're always one milestone away from feeling like a KING. But also one disappointing month or "bad" choice way from questioning yourself.
Your confidence rises and falls with circumstances that were never entirely within your control to begin with.
And here's where things get interesting.
We sometimes make it even harder for ourselves by deliberately raising the stakes.
We convince ourselves that the pressure is necessary. That if enough is riding on the outcome, we'll somehow rise to a level of performance that ordinary men simply can't reach.
We'll become SUPERHUMAN! We will be "HIM" π€£
I personally know men who can't perform unless they publicly put their reputation on the line.
And you know what? Sometimes it actually works.
We pull off the impossible. We deliver. We save the day. We prove to ourselves and everyone watching that we can handle it.
And man, does that feel good! And for some dramatic flair we then even pretend like it was nothing.
So we do it again. Only this time, the stakes are a little higher.
Eventually, we can become so good at performing under pressure that we stop questioning what all that pressure is doing to us, or to the people who share our lives.
There's a line I wrote in A Beautiful Midlife Crisis that I want to reiterate here:
"I just don't see any honour in pretending you're invincible while the people you love pay for the performance."
I still believe that.
And there's an important distinction I had to learn along the way.
Your worth as a human being is not something you have to earn. But your trust in your own follow-through is something you can develop.
You deserve dignity and respect on the day you fail just as much as on the day you succeed.
But if you keep making promises to yourself and don't honour them, it makes sense that you might begin doubting your ability to follow through.
And that deserves your attention sir. B ecause there's something there you can actually work on.
You can learn to make better commitments. You can build consistency. You can develop the character and capacity to do what you say you're going to do.
And you can do all of that without making your worth dependent on the outcome.
That's been one of the most liberating lessons of my life.
I can acknowledge that I've got work to do without having to hate the man doing the work.
When I say I want to become a better man, I'm not talking about becoming better than another man.
There's always going to be someone earning more, lifting heavier (can you believe π€¨), travelling further or building something bigger. Trying to win that comparison is a bloody exhausting way to spend a lifetime.
I'm interested in becoming a man who lives more fully from his values. A man I can recognise and respect when nobody is watching.
Who do I want to be when the business is having a difficult month? When my son needs me and my phone won't stop ringing? When I'm disappointed in someone? When I've hurt somebody and need to own it? When something wonderful happens and I finally get to enjoy it?
Some of us have become excellent at pushing through a difficult season and super uncomfortable with enjoying a good one. We've trained ourselves to look for the next mountain before we've even appreciated the view.
These days I want both.
I want to work hard AND enjoy what the work makes possible. I want strength AND tenderness. Conviction AND humility. Ambition AND the ability to sit with someone I love without mentally rehearsing tomorrow's to-do list. I want to smell the flower too.
I want to be courageous enough to say what I believe and secure enough to listen when somebody disagrees.
And I don't think you have to wait for something terrible to happen before you're allowed to want that.
OH WOW, I LOVE this part of transformation!
For more than 16 years, I've worked with people who want to change their bodies, their habits and ultimately the way they experience their lives.
Because, I mean, THAT'S THE POINT!
But here's something I've come to LOVE about this work.
The magic isn't in the moment somebody announces a huge goal.
Don't get me wrong. I LOVE that moment! The excitement. The ambition. The HELL YES, I'M DOING THIS! energy.
But the real transformation happens afterwards.
When the alarm goes off and you're tired. When you've got to plan your meals around a ridiculously busy day. When training isn't particularly exciting anymore. When those first few weeks of progress are behind you and there's still a long road ahead.
And then life starts LIFE-ING. π€£
You have an argument with your spouse. Things at work aren't going according to plan. Your finances are stretched so thin you're performing financial gymnastics that would qualify you for the Olympics.
And somewhere in the middle of all of that, your emotional and mental batteries start running flat.
I'm not talking about ordinary tiredness.
I'm talking about those days when even the smallest decision feels like an enormous amount of work. When you KNOW what you want, you KNOW why you want it, but somehow you just can't seem to summon the energy or enthusiasm to do another damn thing.
And for a moment, you seriously consider whether disappearing into the mountains, taking off all your clothes and living with the bears might actually be a perfectly reasonable career move. π€£
Brother, mental and emotional fatigue is REAL. Living with the bears... no so much.
And one of the most frustrating things about it is that it can leave you feeling completely powerless, even when you're usually the man who gets things done.
You start questioning yourself.
What happened to my drive? Why can't I just get on with it? What's wrong with me?
But here's what I want you to remember.
How you feel today is not necessarily a reflection of who you are, what you're capable of or how you'll feel tomorrow.
Some days you genuinely have less capacity available. You're carrying more than usual. And your mind and body are asking for some recovery.
That's not something to ignore. Sometimes the wisest thing you can do is rest, get support, adjust the load and give yourself room to recover.
But don't confuse a difficult day with the end of your ambition. Feeling like this on some days are a necessary part of live and the natural cycles of push and pull. Like each time the tide goes in it prepares to push out again.
This feeling can pass. And while it does, you can still stay committed to the life you're building.
Maybe today you can't give 100%. Fine. What CAN you give?
Maybe you can't manage your usual training session, but you can take a walk. Maybe you don't have the energy to tackle everything on your list, but you can honour one important commitment. Maybe the most responsible thing you can do today is get an early night and start again tomorrow.
GET A WIN MY GUY! Even if it's a small win.
That's still showing up.
And in many ways, I think these days matter even MORE than the days when you're excited and everything feels possible.
Because enthusiasm makes starting feel wonderful.
But learning how to stay the course, even when you don't FEEL like the man who started, is how an intention becomes a way of living.
And THAT, my dude, is where some of the most meaningful transformation happens.
Because this goes SO MUCH further than physical transformation.
It's about the kind of man you're becoming through the choices you make every day.
You can say that family is your highest priority. Wonderful. What does your calendar say?
You can say that honesty matters to you. Good. What happens when telling the truth might disappoint somebody?
You can say you want to be a dependable man. I respect that. What does dependable look like when you're having a terrible day?
And if you say you value your health, what are you actually doing to give your body a fighting chance?
I'm not asking those questions to make a man feel guilty. I'm asking because they're the questions that turn beautiful ideas into something real.
Psychologists Peter Gollwitzer and Paschal Sheeran examined this gap between wanting to act and actually acting. Their meta-analysis of implementation intentions found that specific if–then plans—deciding in advance what you'll do when a particular situation arises—can help people follow through on goals.
In ordinary language?
“I want to be more present with my son” becomes “When I get home, I'll put the phone down and spend the first part of our evening together.”
“I want to train consistently” becomes “On Monday, Wednesday and Friday, this is when I train, and this is what I'll do if work runs late.”
“I want to be more honest” becomes “When a conversation makes me uncomfortable, I'll stop trying to manage the other person's reaction and say what I actually mean—with kindness.”
They are the places where the man you want to become gets a chance to show up.
And here is what it looks like if you keep showing up sir.
I've spent a lot of my life training. I love lifting heavy things. I love the physical challenge, the discipline, the patience it takes to build a body that can do more than it used to.
But somewhere along the way I've also had to think more seriously about what strength is FOR.
What does it mean to be a strong man at home? In friendship? In leadership? In your relationship with yourself?
Does strength mean winning every argument?
Always being the one with the answer?
Never admitting that something hurts?
Nah, brother. That's too small a definition for the kind of man I want to become.
To me, strength can look like keeping your word when nobody would know if you didn't. Taking responsibility for a mistake without writing a ten-page defence of yourself. Holding a boundary without humiliating the other person. Asking for help when you're genuinely out of your depth.
It can also look like loving somebody with your whole heart and accepting that you cannot control their choices.
I've had to learn that last one, and I suspect I'll be learning it for the rest of my life.
I'm still a man who loves goals, hard work and high standards. I have no plans to apologise for that.
But I want my strength to serve the people and things I value, not become a performance that everyone around me has to survive.
Luke is one of the great loves of my life.
I want to give him opportunities. I want to provide. I want him to grow into a capable, courageous, kind man who knows how deeply he's loved.
And as much as I want to teach him all sorts of wonderful things, I know he is also learning from the way I live.
He sees the father who trains. The father who works. The father who makes plans.
But he also gets to experience how I handle disappointment. How I speak about other people. What I do when I get something wrong. Whether I listen properly when he has something to tell me.
And damn, children have a wonderful way of exposing the distance between the man you believe you are and the man who arrived at breakfast this morning. π€£
I don't want Luke to grow up thinking being a good man means never struggling, never changing your mind or always having everything under control.
I want him to know that a man can be strong AND gentle. Brave AND thoughtful. Ambitious AND present. That you can make mistakes, take responsibility, repair what you can and keep growing.
I've written more personally about this in What I Want My Son to Learn About Being a Man.
Even if nobody depended on me, my life would still be worth living well.
I don't only want to become a better man because I'm a father or because other people need something from me.
I want it because I've been given this extraordinary privilege of a life.
I want to LIVE it. Fully. Deliberately. With gratitude and courage.
And if the people I love get to enjoy more of the man I'm becoming, what a beautiful gift that is.
There's a question I ask myself more often these days.
Do I want this because it means something to me—or because I think achieving it will finally make me enough?
Because those two motivations can look identical from the outside.
Both men might build successful businesses. Both might train five days a week. Both might work incredibly hard.
But one is building something he deeply values. The other is desperately hoping that the next achievement will quiet a question he carries about himself.
And, of course, most of us will have a bit of both at different times. Life isn't always that tidy.
Psychologists Kennon Sheldon and Andrew Elliot studied what they called self-concordant goals—goals connected to a person's interests and values. Across three longitudinal datasets, their findings linked those goals with more sustained effort and greater wellbeing benefits when the goals were achieved.
That doesn't mean ambitious goals are good only if they feel easy. The things we value most can ask a hell of a lot from us.
It means the reasons behind the work matter.
If you want to build a massive company, wonderful. Why?
If you want to get into the best shape of your life at 50, I'm ALL FOR IT. Why?
If you want to become a better partner, grow your business, spend more time with your children or start something completely new, what is it about those things that deserves the next chapter of your life?
Because the world is full of perfectly impressive lives that nobody thought to ask the person living them whether he actually wanted.
One of the things I love about coaching is that people are not finished products.
I've watched people change habits they believed were permanent. I've seen them develop strength they didn't know they had. I've seen how a little structure, honest feedback and consistent action can change the relationship a person has with himself.
And I've experienced the uncomfortable truth that knowing what to do doesn't mean you're going to do it.
Even after all these years, I can find myself struggling to follow through on something I could teach somebody else in my sleep.
Very humbling. Especially when you happen to be the bloody coach. π
Researchers Joshua Jackson and Amanda Wright reviewed how personality can change in 2024. Their work describes both the possibility of change and the forces that keep established patterns stable. The evidence doesn't support the idea that you can simply decide to become an entirely different person by Monday morning.
There are ways of thinking, reacting and behaving that we've practised for years. They're familiar, even when they no longer serve us particularly well.
Building a new response takes attention. Practice. Sometimes outside perspective. And often a willingness to get things wrong without abandoning the whole process.
Maybe you're working on patience. Maybe emotional honesty. Maybe boundaries. Maybe the ability to stay consistent when motivation disappears.
Maybe your next level is learning to rest without feeling guilty.
Whatever it is, you don't have to become a different human being before you can begin. You can start practising the qualities you want to bring more fully into your life.
Small moments. Real choices. Repeated over time.
I've spent much of my career working with ambitious men. And one lesson keeps becoming clearer to me: a bigger goal is not always what a man needs first.
Sometimes he already has extraordinary goals. What he needs is the capacity to pursue them in a way his life can actually support.
I know what happens in the gym when someone confuses training harder with training better.
More sets. More effort. More intensity. Every session becomes a battle. Recovery becomes an afterthought. Eventually performance suffers.
And then what do some guys do?
They train even harder. π€£ I say this tongue in cheek, I'm describing a younger me.
A man wants to become a better father, grow his business, strengthen his relationship, get fit, be more present and finally get some proper sleep.
But if his days are already overloaded, his recovery is poor, his emotions have nowhere to go and his attention is pulled in seventeen directions, another motivational speech isn't going to magically create room for all of it.
That observation is part of why I developed my Capacity Framework.
It invites us to look at the whole man: his recovery, physical wellbeing, the demands on his attention, emotional processing, identity and what gives his life meaning. Rather than treating every difficulty as a character flaw, we look at what his life is asking of him and what support, structure or development might be needed.
Sometimes taking ownership means pushing harder.
Sometimes it means making a difficult decision about what you're going to stop doing.
Sometimes it means asking for help, making room for the people you love, or admitting that the current plan simply doesn't fit the life you're living.
The goal isn't to become a man who can tolerate endless pressure. The goal is to become a man with the capacity to build and enjoy a life that is actually important to him. A conscious and deliberate life.
My faith shapes how I think about the future. And tho I don't really know what the future holds, I for sure aways know WHO holds the future.
I've been given abilities, opportunities, experience, people to love and responsibilities worth taking seriously.
I want to use those things as well as I can.
Not because I'm trying to impress God with a list of achievements. And certainly not because I believe good behaviour guarantees a comfortable life.
I've lived enough to know that it doesn't.
For me, stewardship means taking the life I've been given seriously, showing up for the work that's mine to do, and being humble enough to remember that I don't control every outcome.
It means enjoying the good without needing to claim every bit of credit. It means taking responsibility when I get things wrong. It means making space for love, family, rest, work, faith and the things that make this world worth being part of.
I still pray about the future. I still have massive ambitions. And I still occasionally behave as if God could benefit from my exceptionally detailed instructions. π€£
But I love the thought of being able to look back one day and say: Man, I used what I was given as much as I was able to. I loved the people I was entrusted with. I did the work as well as I could. I enjoyed the journey. I kept growing.
Not only what you want to own. What you want to earn. Where you want to travel. What you want your body to look like.
But picture yourself ten years from now, living an ordinary day in the life you've built.
How does he treat the people closest to him?
How does he handle pressure? What does he do when he makes a mistake? How does he speak to HIMSELF when things don't go to plan?
What does his health allow him to enjoy? What has he learned to say no to? What gives him energy? What is he brave enough to pursue?
And what does he absolutely LOVE about being alive? This is key. You have to build a loving and respectful relationship with life.
Don't give me a list of impressive adjectives. Take the time an give yourself something real.
Maybe you want to become a father who is more present. A man who can have the difficult conversation without running from it. Someone who keeps his promises. Someone who has the energy to enjoy the adventure he keeps talking about. A leader who brings calm into a room instead of adding to the noise.
Choose a few qualities that matter to you. Then ask yourself what one of them could look like today.
If you want to be a present father, create the time and give your attention.
If you want to be courageous, make the call you've been putting off.
If you want to respect your body, give it the training, nutrition and recovery it needs.
If you want to be dependable, keep a promise that nobody else is going to check.
If you want a bigger future, take one deliberate action towards it. Then make another tomorrow.
And as you do, check whether the life you're building actually has room for the man you're trying to become.
That's personal leadership.
Not performing perfection. Not becoming a copy of somebody else's idea of masculinity.
Taking ownership of the life you have, the values you stand for and the man you're choosing to become.
If you'd like a practical way to connect that direction to a vision, I've written about it in Start Where It's Finished: How to Create a Vision for Your Life. And if following through is the part you're working on, read Why Can't I Stay Consistent?
Maybe you already have an incredible life.
I hope with my whole heart you do.
Maybe your business is thriving. Your relationships are strong. You're healthy, grateful and excited about your future.
GOOD. I love that!
You don't need to invent a crisis to justify wanting to grow.
And if things aren't going particularly well right now, you don't have to pretend they are. You can acknowledge how difficult life feels while still giving yourself permission to imagine a future worth moving towards.
I'm not interested in selling men the idea that they're incomplete until they've reached some arbitrary standard of success.
I'm interested in what becomes possible when a man takes his life seriously enough to live it deliberately.
At 41, I have a clearer understanding of my values than I did at 21. I've learned that I can be strong and still need help. That I can love what I've built and accept that some things will change. That responsibility and control are not the same thing.
I've learned that the people I love deserve more than the exhausted leftovers of my attention.
And I'm still learning. Every damn day.
But here's what really excites me.
Imagine what the next ten years could look like if I brought everything I've learned so far into the way I live, love, work, train and lead.
Not only bigger achievements.
A BIGGER LIFE.
One I'm proud to build. One I'm grateful to live. And one that the people I love get to share with me.
When I work with a man, I want to know what he's built, what matters to him and what he's excited to become. I'll bring more than 16 years of coaching experience, honest challenge, practical plans and accountability; he'll bring his ambitions and willingness to do the work.
I won't pretend to have every answer. But I will care about the man behind the goals. I'll encourage you to think bigger, question choices that pull you away from your values and help you follow through.
I want you to achieve extraordinary things AND enjoy this remarkable privilege of being alive.
That's what MEN | GREATER LIVES means to me.
If you'd value that conversation, let's begin with a 20–30 minute Exploration Call (R695). We'll explore your ambitions and whether coaching would be worthwhile. No obligation to continue beyond the call.
You've already built a life, brother. Now imagine who you could become while living it.
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